Medicate
by Duckehegg
Summary: What if you are afraid of the world? Should it be medicated and molded into a place where no one is, could, or should be different? And what if you are hated for simply being you? What if the world is afraid of you?


Blahblahblah.

While I'm a new user, I am not new at making fan fictions. This is a remake of my first fan fiction, but I do consider it as a _much_ better version of the original. What with added details, more complex personalities, and other tidbits and whatnots, its hard to compare it to the old one. But whatever. I'd really, really appreciate it if I had readers and reviewers. And feel free to give constructive criticism. I probably do need it. ;3

I do not own Pokemon and any of their creations, though it'd be nifty if I did. But any other characters are mine, and should I borrow characters from both their games and whatnot, or borrow characters and other creations that are not my own, I will give credit where it is due. I also give credit to Chevelle for their lyrics, since I both used them and based some phrases and lines on their songs.

Enjoy.

Medicate

The long "prologue": Breach Beginning

Each time, his pain grew worse.  
Each time, his fear was real.  
And each time, he ended up sadder than before.

He clenched the crimson rose in his hand. And although it hurt to, because of the green thorns that invaded the flower, he squeezed harder, soon feeling a natural wetness and warmness flowing slowly and surely. After a moment, it no longer hurt. In fact, he felt a small rush of euphoria.

But something was approaching.  
And although he could not see it, he could indeed sense it.  
And he feared it.

The naked, old trees looked deader than a corpse, but even then, they seemed to willingly dance the devil's dance with every stroke of the wind. But the wind was neither cold nor warm; strangely, he could not feel it brushing against his own fair skin, which looked even paler in comparison to the black earth he stood on.

The forest rustled startlingly.  
It was even closer.  
He began to feel panicked, and his breathing became faster and heavier.

This world was depressing. It had almost no color, like an old photograph or a television set from years ago. But his single rose seemed to paint the world all on its own. Its red vibrated color with its beauty and warmth, and it made him feel safe and accompanied, as though it was an old, reliable friend. He clenched it harder, fearing it'd grow legs and walk away.

_Don't leave me._

He looked below, and studied the dark ground. Right in front him was a shallow puddle of water. But it was so clear and so brilliant, that it almost looked like a queen's prized mirror. It reflected this depressing, draining world. But it also reflected his face.

The very first time he had dwelled within this mirror, he had seen a small, frail boy of seven years of age. But now, he could see a young man, with medium-long, disheveled, raven hair. His facial features were soft and boy-like, but he was at the age of sixteen. And his most dominant, outstanding feature, were his eyes. They were like two finely cut emeralds, reflecting wisdom, intelligence, and sorrow. They almost seemed to glow.

The entity was closer than ever.  
The forest shook violently.  
And his lips began to quiver.  
His hands were squeezing so hard, and yet the flower stood proudly.

_Go away. Please. Just go away! Leave me alone_.

It stood before him. But… oddly, you couldn't see a thing.  
You could sense it. You could sense its presence beckoning you, staring you down, and laughing at you.

_Please. Leave me alone. Leave us alone! Leave my rose alone!_

The entity refused to leave, and it seemed to attack the boy, hurting him and clawing at him. The boy screamed in pain, and he begged and pleaded, and begged and bled. And he cried.

And then, the rose began to wilt away.  
It too, bled. Just like the boy holding it. Its red petals blackened, and the thorns shot off into different directions, stabbing the boy.  
That rose apparently betrayed him.  
It hurt the most within his heart.

He screamed through his mouth and through every wound.  
And the entity laughed aloud.  
And that laugh sounded so real.

Each time, the laugh was louder.  
Each time, the laugh pressed deeper into reality.  
And each time, the pain was real.

And once again, he heard that voice. The entity's laughing, taunting voice.  
But he was awake. Rain was awake, heart beating rapidly, and sweating profusely.

He began to blink. Once. Twice. And then he let out a loud groan, frustrated and upset about that same dream. That persistent dream that he would always have after a day of overwhelming stress and anxiety.

He's had episodes of having this dream ever since he was a small child. He had always been an overly anxious person, and over time, it became a disorder, a chemical imbalance. But at the same time, he didn't feel like that was all it was. It couldn't just be his innermost self, could it?

Nonetheless, he would have the dream. And even though he knew it by heart, every motion and every beat, right after another, just like a favorite movie that you had watched fifty times, it would get to him every time.

It was too real.

He scrambled around, feeling too hot, looked at his digital clock, and let out another loud groan after noticing that it was nowhere near sunlit morning.

_Goddamn it. It's only 3:00am._

In the first place, he had a hard time trying to fall asleep. No one would have an easy time sleeping after the past day's events and the following day's plans.

He flipped his pillow over, to lay his head down on the cool side, and then he squeezed his eyes shut, wanting to forget the evening but inevitably recapping it…

Rain's private school, the Pallet Town Pokemon Trainer's Academy, (PTPTA) held an awards ceremony for graduating students with high honors, hours ago. Rain, who had a natural competitive nature when it came to academics, was being honored as one of the top students in areas of expression, such as language and the arts. Mathematics was the devil to him; expression was his strength. While the PTPTA is indeed a school designed for future Pokemon Trainers, it was also a Co-ed prep school, dedicated to teaching the same materials you'd find in a regular school.

…Most of his family lived back in the Hoenn region, but he was sent away to the Kanto Region, because it was a great opportunity, and he had a chance to get into the school for a lower fee. At least, that's the reason his parents had given him…

Really, he was completely reluctant to leave his home and his family. He didn't just shed a few tears, like most other "mature" teenagers would, when he had been put on the plane. He full-out bawled, and wouldn't let go of his mother's arms. The only reason he really let go, was one of his father's comments.

"Man up, crybaby! You're twelve years old!"

How much he hated that phrase. He immediately stopped crying, kissed his mother good-bye, and in a fit of spite, gave a fierce glare at his father. And nothing else - not a hug or a kiss - before taking off on the plane...

By now, he was sixteen years old, and was finally graduating with special honors. Rain had hoped that night to be a memorable event. As he showered and got ready, he envisioned receiving his awards, flashing a perfect smile from imperfect teeth, and finally being applauded. Finally feeling accepted by his fellow peers.

It was a hope. It really was. But deep down, he knew it probably wouldn't happen. Not for someone like him.

People, especially teenagers, aren't so accepting of those that are different. Those that carve away from the molds that society tries to force us into. This world is driven by image and what society sees as "normal," and Rain didn't always fit the description, in more than one way.

From the very first day that he had moved into town, people began to look at him as someone who was "different."

First off, his family wasn't very wealthy, and they couldn't afford to send him very nice things. It was evident to most other students by the way he dressed, and by what he owned.

However, there are traits that certain people are born with, and those traits are generally discriminated against, for the most bigoted reasons. Rain had a genetic trait that some people aren't accepting of:

His eyes. His beautiful and vivid, green eyes. The unfortunate thing was that they were mostly normal in every way, but different in that the iris, the colored part of the eye, was shaped like a water drop.

And that was it. Of course, he dressed differently, styled his image differently, and his ideals were varied. But his tear-shaped eye was the main root of the reason he was disliked.

Apparently, people with the water drop shaped eye, coined "Droplets" were more prone to becoming "troublemakers."

While discrimination against Droplets is ancient, and wasn't common in modern times, a recent event that affected the whole world, gave new birth to the bias. ...A little more than sixteen years ago, two opposing crime syndicates tried to change the world by trying to manipulate the land, the sea, and the weather. All of the members of both of the opposing groups were born with droplet eyes...

With or without the mark, Rain had always tried to live respectfully as a truly good, kindhearted person.

The ceremony took place in the evening, right after the sun had set, and the sky was a dark blue. And of course, he was there early, admiring the very red decorations of the auditorium, and anxiously awaiting the arrival of his friends, and his favorite teachers. The normally filthy seats, splattered with cola and smeared with bubblegum had been cleaned, the floors smelled of lemon pledge, and a red carpet had been rolled through the center of the room, separating the seats designated for students, from the seats reserved for parents and guests. The school had bought a new crimson, velvet curtain, and it was draped over the pine stage.

At the moment, he felt happy. His only regret was that his parents would not be able to show, being so far away, and apparently unable to pay the airfare. Yes, both of them. He loved them both, even though his father could be a complete pain at times.

He shyly edged his way to the front row of the seating area, and awaited the rest of the attending student body. At one point, only a few minutes after being seated, he almost _sensed_ his better friends entering the room. In coincidence, when he turned around, he recognized Ross immediately, in her crimson shirt and faded black/gray jeans, brunette hair, carefully fanned over her head, and a little past shoulder length. As she stepped into the light, her brown eyes lit up, like stones of amber.

_So informal._

Beside her stood Pete, the older of the two, wearing his work shirt, black slacks, and semi-long, winded hair. Literally winded. In fact, it looked as though he had a twig inside of it. Ross promptly noticed, laughed, and pulled it out as they walked down the rows, scanning the room for Rain. At least, that's what Rain was hoping for.

His only fear at the moment was being forgotten or being unnoticed. Being forgotten brought a feeling of rejection.

His lungs deflated calmly as an old breath was released. He wasn't forgotten. Ross stood next to Rain, looking around the room, while Pete sat in the first seat in the guest seating area, since his wasn't there for an award, not even being a student of the school; he'd already graduated.

"So, what's with the get-up?" asked Ross, pointing out Rain's "best" clothing; a black suit-coat, teal undershirt, and matching teal tie, rounded up with black slacks. "You look a little nicer than usual."

"Eh… It's a special occasion… It's not like I'm overdressed, or anything, Ms. I'm-too-badass-to-wear-a-dress," he replied. She rolled her eyes and plopped her body down on the seat next to Rain. The seat squeaked. "Pete, why are you still in your work uniform?"

"God, you know? Preggo, a.k.a. Liliana, the afternoon manager, put me on overtime because she suddenly began to have contractions, or something – third time this week. I swear, I saw her playing tennis at the country club, on my way over here. Hopefully that baby will finally hit her with some real contractions." Pete obviously looked exhausted. He laid back and closed his eyes, only to be woken up by the sound of the principal's voice, greeting the body of people, and beginning to call out the names of the students receiving awards.

One after one, the students were rising from their seats, smiling through ironed hair, and pampered faces. Many students received their awards with relatives and fellow classmates cheering and whistling. Ross rose from her seat as her name was called. Immediately, most students shush themselves up; only Pete and Rain really gave her any kind of recognition. Rain could have sworn that he heard someone yell out "lesbo" and "bitch," as she walked off the stage. The principal seemed to ignore the comment. It was saddening, she being one of the most wonderful girls he knew.

Avery Oak's name was called. The room erupted in applause and cheer. But how much Rain disliked the guy… He received his awards, stood in front of the stage, and flashed out a smile, before heading off.

Right then, the principal called 'Rain De La Luz.' Of course, he stood up, patted off his clothing, and walked to the stage. Again, the students had quieted down in the exact fashion that they had done so with Ross. Only Ross and Pete had applauded.The audience perked up, but with shallow whispers and slight snickering.

As he walked up the steps, he almost tripped, which caused even more giggling. Blushing from both embarrassment and delight, he accepted his rewards for excellency in language, arts, and knowledge in Pokemon training. As he had practiced, he flashed a perfect smile to the crowd, but instead of the applause and acceptance that he was hoping for, the only thing he heard was someone use the old "coughing" gesture, and blurted out "fag" with it. Many students, and even a few adults began to laugh. The principal did nothing to quiet anyone down, nor did he comment on the inappropriate language used.

In shame and rejection, he began walking offstage, with his head down, not wanting to let anyone see his eyes, full of self-pity.

And then, the strange began. As he walked, he could swear that he saw one of the floorboards rise out of the ground. He tripped forward, crumpling the awards under his body. Again, the audience cried out in laughter. As Rain pulled himself up, he felt a sudden cooling come over his body.

The sudden feeling of the water almost put him in shock. It turned out that someone had placed a bucket of water on a beam, high up on the ceiling. It was not an accident, since a rope could clearly be seen hanging from the empty bucket.

At this point, the crowd could no longer contain themselves. The room erupted in crazed laughter.

"Fagot!"

"Droplet!"

"Get out of here! You don't belong here!"

Rain could not do a thing, except to stand, petrified with anxiety and sadness. Pete and Ross looked on in sorrow, before rising out of their seats to join up with him.

He covered his eyes, not wanting a single person to see him crying. But the mocking was unbearable. His body shook with rage, and an unnatural feeling could be felt overcoming him.

"Shut up!" he howled. The room echoed, and in almost unison, the ceiling's emergency water sprinklers, used to douse the flames in a fire, went off, showering the room, drenching everyone and everything.

All students, faculty, and guests were evacuated from the room, and the fire department was called to investigate the cause of the sprinkler-water triage.

But at this point, Rain had run out of the room in panic and worry, leaving his two friends in the commotion. Disoriented and unable to think clearly, he ran to the back of the school, where a large tree had grown. It stood proudly, branches rising to the sky with power and confidence.

Oftentimes when things became overbearing, Rain would use this spot as a small refuge, since it was pretty secluded and it was rarely visited by anyone. The smell of the roses planted around the area, and the scent of fresh rainwater was always the perfect medicine.

And suddenly, an eerie, unnatural laughter echoed from behind. At first, he thought he had imagined it, because it had sounded very believable. But he heard it a second time, and it pulsated within his mind.

He looked into a puddle of water for some kind of reassurance. Strangely, he could see his reflection in it, even though it was fairly dark by this time. His semi-short, dark hair was drying off. His normally soft and boyish facial features looked sharper than usual.

But even stranger than being able to see his reflection was that someone had etched phrases, or a poem into the tree's light bark. It was graffiti, but it didn't _look_ like graffiti.

"SOVREIN SHAPES TEMPT US."

"PASSING OUT SCHEMATICS."

"FORCING ALL INTO MOLDS."

"DARE WE LIVE WITHOUT MOLDS?"

"COURAGE LIVES WITHOUT MOLDS."

"CAN'T FORCE ALL INTO MOLDS."

He recognized them as being similar to the lyrics of a song. And it made him smile. It made him happy, for a moment, and the fear slowly melted away, with the unnatural feeling that had provoked it, and with the imaginary laughter…

Rain flipped the pillow over again, checked the time, and closed his eyes once more, feeling more relaxed. Relaxation and rest was exactly what he needed, the following morning being the day of his final, and wanting to be fairly rested and enthusiastic to catch his first Pokemon…

Tradition had it that at the age of ten, children had the opportunity to leave home, acquire a Pokemon, and begin a quest to find out who they were, and to one day become a Pokemon master.

However, it was a rare occasion when a child actually persevered in this path, let alone succeeded. Most lacked the maturity, endurance, and knowledge to train Pokemon, happily and successfully. Most of which ended up quitting within a few months, if not before the end of the year.

That was when world-famous Professor Samuel Oak founded one of the first Pokemon Academies in his hometown of Pallet, aimed to provide the knowledge, and train skill into aspiring Pokemon training youth.

By the time his school had opened, law had it that any person that wanted to own or train Pokemon had to have a Pokemon Trainer's License. This was to lower the chance of people causing crime and mischief with Pokemon.

Children all over the Pokemon world could begin attending Pokemon Training classes as early as age eight, if they wished to become a trainer, handler, or owner. They were required to take a two-year course, before being eligible to actually obtain a Pokemon Trainer's License. The final test, before receiving their license, was actually capturing a Pokemon.

The Pallet Town Pokemon Trainer's Academy taught the same classes as a normal school, but they were taught at a higher, more profound level. Individuals from the ages of eight through eighteen were eligible to attend the school, with pay. They required their students to study at the school for three years, instead of two. After those three years, students could receive their licenses and begin training Pokemon, without question. However, they also offered extra courses, for any student that wanted to stay at the school for an extra year.

Rain was ready by the third year of school, according to his teachers. But he disagreed, and apparently felt that he needed a fourth year at the school. Really, it was the anxiety eating away at his anticipation to venture out into the world.

The PTPTA's final test for graduating students was to enter a large, four square mile enclosed park, and capture a single Pokemon with they aid of a random, lent Pokemon, within twenty-four hours. Students unable to exit the park before the allotted time would have to take remedial courses for two months. This rarely happened, however.

The anticipation of the following morning was overflowing, and he was once again, having trouble falling asleep. He imagined a Snorlax, relaxed, in his own Zen, and after a while, he etched into a calm sleep.


End file.
